


Something

by WroughtBetwixt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dying Stiles, Fluff and Angst, Foe Yay, Illnesses, Kitsune Stiles, M/M, Nogitsune Stiles, Possession, Pre-Slash, References to Illness, Sexual Fantasy, Sick Stiles, Terminal Illnesses, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WroughtBetwixt/pseuds/WroughtBetwixt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all just part of the fun, at first. Scott knew Stiles was sick, had known for a while, and the nogitsune wanted to see him admit it. Things don't go quite as planned, but maybe that's a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something

“You know what they’re looking for, right?”  
  
It was easy enough for the nogitsune to pull up memories, to ramble out facts. It was easy enough to fake that quiet sadness. Stiles was an infinitely complex young man, and yet, simple; at his core, he was a scared, lost little boy, desperate for affection. Desperate for a saviour. Something-- someone-- to mend the pain, the grief, the internal struggle. Carefully weaving all that into a facade of somber resignation, with just a hint of hopelessness... well, it was a talent that the nogitsune had perfected, and it was working on Scott like a charm.  
  
“It’s the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers,” the nogitsune finished, his stolen voice almost matter-of-fact. Stiles was always matter-of-fact about death. His own would be no different. “And there’s no cure.”  
  
And now, to watch. Scott was looking away, his own expression tight, focused. It was fascinating, watching just how many emotions passed through the wolf’s face. Confusion, realization, horror, pain, sadness. The nogitsune wanted to tilt his head, to ask Scott if he was going to cry; he wanted to ask the boy how long he’s smelled the sickness on his friend, if he smelled like he was getting worse, why he hadn’t spoken up sooner. He wanted to ask Scott if he was already starting to mourn, as some people did when they became aware of a loved one’s slow, inevitable demise. Fascinating.  
  
Scott moved his hand to his face, his thumb briefly touching his eye; the nogitsune waited, wondering if the wolf was going to confess. If he was going to tell Stiles what he already knew, and what Stiles had already guessed. Would Stiles, locked somewhere deep inside his own body, helpless to do anything but watch, be angry? Would he cry, too? Would he turn to the fox and scream, _you knew didn’t you_ , because he couldn’t let himself get angry at the one person he loved more than anyone?  
  
“Stiles,” Scott finally murmured. The nogitsune held his breath. Oh, it was going to be beautiful. “If you have it... we’ll do something.”  
  
Wait. Furrowing his eyebrows, the nogitsune looked away from Scott. We? What did Scott possibly think they could do? It was a death sentence-- one that Scott had known about. He could see the guilt on the boy, and yet... And yet Scott was looking at them then.The sadness had given way to a quiet determination, the guilt replaced by... what?  
  
“ _I’ll_ do something,” the wolf said, his voice stronger.  
  
Scott moved closer, reaching out and resting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. The nogitsune’s shoulder. For a moment, the fox just stared, but then Scott nodded, his eyes glowing just a faint hint of red; the meaning of _‘something’_ suddenly became clear. A werewolf, offering his power to a dying friend-- a saviour at last. Their gazes locked, and the nogitsune blinked rapidly as his eyesight was suddenly blurred by tears. They were crying. _He_ was crying. Before he could stop himself, he surged forward, curling the body’s thin arms around Scott and holding tight. It felt right, doing that. It felt good.  
  
Without hesitation, Scott returned the embrace, murmuring soothing words into the body’s neck as the nogitsune allowed the tears to flow. Suffering. Pain. Both things that the nogitsune fed on, and happily, but the feelings coursing around the wolf and through the fox right then were almost as delicious. Maybe, if he were an honest soul, it was even better. It was sweeter than guilt and strife; it was a rich, heady mixture of sensations and emotions that sank down deep into his body and stayed there, heavy in a pleasing way. Friendship. Comfort. _Love._  
  
The doctor’s voice droned from behind a window. “It’s time for the test. Scott?”  
  
“It’ll be okay.” Scott pulled away, and the warmth left with him. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”  
  
With a sigh, the nogitsune watched Scott leave before stretching out on his back, shifting the body against the cold, plastic table of the machine. New thoughts were running through his mind, new and strange ideas; suddenly he could picture the wolf’s body closer, warmer, wrapped all around this new body of his. Oh, Stiles had thought about it before. How many times had he hinted at it? The boy wanted it, but was always too timid, too shy, too much of all the things that would get him absolutely nowhere. But _now_... The nogitsune closed his eyes as the machine began to clang. Naturally, he had no such flaws.  
  
He’d had a taste, and he wanted more.


End file.
